


nutcracker

by clintbartonswife



Series: Christmas drabbles/fics 2019 [4]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ballet, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, F/F, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, POV Second Person, References to The Nutcracker, The Avengers Are Good Bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21733741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clintbartonswife/pseuds/clintbartonswife
Summary: You help Natasha reclaim her love of ballet“after the red room I lost all love for the dance. It was a weapon, something I had to do to survive"
Relationships: Natasha Romanov/Reader
Series: Christmas drabbles/fics 2019 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560466
Kudos: 45





	nutcracker

A smile spread across your face as you glanced down at the text message from your friend, pride swelling in your chest.  
“What’s made you so smiley?” Tony asked, throwing himself on the seat beside you, peaking over your shoulder to read the text message. You groaned at his nosiness but let him read it anyway, lifting your head up to answer him.  
“My friend just got the leading role in the Christmas nutcracker this year”   
Words of congratulations were heard from all around the room, only the redheaded assassin staying quiet, a flash of hurt crossing her face before she reapplied her emotionless mask. Not wanting to make a scene you decided to ask her about it later, instead passing on the well wishes on to your friend.

“What happened earlier?”  
Your voice cut through the comfortable silence of the bedroom, the sudden question making Natasha’s relaxed posture tense slightly.  
“I don’t know what you mean”  
“Yes you do - it’s okay if you don’t want to see the show with me, you know you don’t have to right?”  
The redhead sighed, turning to face you, eyes shining with rare honesty.  
“I am happy for your friend, I know how hard it is to reach that level of skill, but after-” she paused to take a shaky breath, face hardening, “after the red room I lost all love for the dance. It was a weapon, something I had to do to survive rather than a fun thing with my friends”  
You felt yourself frown as you shuffled closer to your girlfriend, pulling her into a hug. She huffed a laugh at your sudden closeness, silently grateful for the comfort.  
“I wish I could’ve helped you” you murmured, words muffled against her soft skin, “nobody deserved what you went through - what I wouldnt give to punch those bitches in the face-”  
She snorted, hand moving to absentmindedly play with your hair, “Clint helped me with that in our early days. We burnt the school to the ground”  
You made an appreciative noise, burrowing further into the warmth of her body.  
“Remind me to give him a big hug tomorrow”  
Nat let out a small laugh, humming her affirmation before reaching over to turn the light off, placing a quick kiss on your forehead as she moved. As the two of you settled into the darkness, you could tell something was still on her mind so you willed your tired brain to stay awake for just a few more minutes.  
“I’ll think about it” she eventually said, earning a soft kiss on her collar bone - a silent thank you.

A few weeks later you skipped into the common floor living room, tickets in hand.  
“Guys! I’ve got the tickets”  
That caught the attention of your fellow avengers, cheers echoing around the room.  
“These are for the second night - she could only get 2 tickets for opening night for us because, obviously, she has her family that she needed tickets for, so those will be for me and Nat” you explained, handing a ticket to each person, catching Nat’s eye with the unspoken agreement that the invite wasn’t forced.  
Once everyone was distracted, you noticed Natasha slip out of the room. Clint gave you a look - one you knew very well by now - telling you to go after her.  
You eventually found her in one of the private training rooms, ballet shoes on, standing deadly still in the middle of the space. Not feeling like your intrusion would be welcome, you instead stood in the doorway, waiting for her to make her move.  
After a while of her just standing there, you let out a small breath and knocked on the door, announcing your presence. She whipped around to face you, jaw clenched.  
“What?”  
You smiled at her, moving deliberately across the floor, making sure all your actions were predictable so as not to spook the assassin.  
”I was wondering if I could join you in dancing?”  
“But you don’t know ballet”  
“Doesn’t mean I cant try” you shrugged, “Besides, you could always get a laugh out of it in the end”  
You saw her go to contradict you and effectively cut her off before she could speak.  
“Because that is what dance is about. Not being perfect, but having fun with friends”  
Her eyes widened slightly in realisation, hesitantly nodding at your proposition before asking FRIDAY to play _Tchaikovsky: No.14b Dance of the Sugar-Plum Fairy_. When seeing your raised eyebrow she simply shrugged and said ‘because Christmas’ before letting the music wash over her.   
Even after her first few steps you could tell she was taking it too seriously. As soon as she started to move in what looked like practiced steps her face lost all humour, becoming the blank mask that you were all-too used to seeing. When she mis-stepped slightly her back tensed, whole body pausing mid move as if she was waiting for some kind of retribution.  
Oh.  
 _Oh._  
It was in that moment you understood: not only was dance used as a weapon, but also as a punishment.  
“Nat, they’re not here” you said, cutting through her stupor, “they cant hurt you anymore. They don’t control you”  
Her leg dropped gracelessly back to the floor, back still straight. It wasn’t much but it showed she was listening. Taking this as a go ahead, you told her to look at you, beginning to move once her eyes fell onto your body.  
“That’s all wrong” she stated, voice dull, as she watched you flail clumsily around the floor. You knew you looked ridiculous, but the repressed smile growing on her face was enough to make you smile too.  
“Says who?” you fired back, grunting as you did a particularly awful pirouette, “I don’t see a teacher in here. I’m just dancing to the music”  
As the music changed to the next symphony, you heard a second step of footsteps hesitantly join you, almost copying your movements.  
“Mme B”  
You raised your eyebrow, filing away the confession for later, and carried on your ugly moves.  
“Well I don’t see her here”  
Natasha nodded, slowly at first, until you could see the breakthrough in settling in her eyes. Encouraged by this, you carried on talking.  
“Besides, she sounds like a bitch. Fuck that”  
That pulled a laugh from the redhead, a sudden shocked sound, but the blank slate was finally gone, and in it’s place was hopeful hesitancy.  
“Fuck that” she repeated, eyes shining.


End file.
